


Momma Who Bore Me

by Chillmaster3000



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillmaster3000/pseuds/Chillmaster3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lingering problem is finally put to rest when the Secret Service stops Anna Barber from entering the White House. Part of the Cerulean AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Toby, you got a second?” C.J. appears in the doorway of the Roosevelt Room. Toby looks up from the pile of papers.

“How important is it?”

“Depends. Important to you or important to the country?” C.J. says. 

“Aren’t those the same thing?” Toby replies. 

“It’s important to you,” C.J. says. 

“Okay. I’m coming.” Toby stands and meets C.J. in the hall. She purses her lips and drums her fingers on the folder she’s holding.

“C.J.?” Toby says.

“Yeah?”

“You had something you wanted to tell me? Something important?” 

“Yeah,” C.J. says, fingers curling around the folder. “The-the Secret Service came to see me. They caught Anna Barber trying to get into the building again.” Toby pauses.

“What?”

“It turns out Anna Barber is now Rachel Grant, a CIA operative, and she came with the director,” C.J. says. “Secret Service stopped her and took her to Treasury while they got things sorted out.”

“Have things been sorted out?” Toby asks. 

“They’re still working on it. She will have to serve some time for the whole fraudulent entry into the White House thing,” C.J. says. “Leo wants us to go over there and talk to people.”

“Talk to Anna Barber?” Toby says.

“Among others,” C.J. replies. “Can you do it now?” Toby turns back to the Roosevelt Room, where Sam is trying to coordinate the speechwriters into something vaguely resembling order. Then Toby faces C.J. again.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

*

“And I’m gonna need to see Toby about the event on Tuesday, there’s something we gotta put in the speech,” Josh says, coming out of his office.

“Toby’s at Treasury,” Donna says. Josh stops at her desk.

“Toby’s at Treasury?”

“Yeah. He just left.” Donna looks up. “Bonnie said he’ll be back in time for Staff.”

“Why did he go to Treasury?” Josh asks. Donna shrugs.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. But he’ll be back for Senior Staff, so you can talk to him then,” she says. 

“Fine. I’ll go check on Sam and the speechwriters,” Josh says.

“Do Sam and Ainsley have a thing?” Donna says as Josh walks past her. He stops and turns around.

“What?”

“Do Sam and Ainsley have a thing? People keep saying they have a thing,” Donna says.

“What people?”

“People who work here. Do they have a thing?”

“No. Sam and Ainsley don’t have a thing,” Josh answers. “It was one incident under the mistletoe-”

“Carol showed me the picture,” Donna interrupts with a smile.

“And that was it,” Josh says.

“Aw. That’s disappointing.” Donna turns back to her desk. Josh pauses.

“Okay, I’m gonna regret asking, but why is that disappointing to you?” he says.

“Well, they’d be very cute together. They have that witty banter thing going, and Ainsley loves Cerulean,” Donna says. “Plus, any other kids they’d have would be absolutely gorgeous.”

“How do you figure that?” Josh asks. 

“Well, Sam is, you know, Sam, and Ainsley’s very pretty,” Donna says. “Just think-”

“Yeah, sorry I asked,” Josh says. “Just…they don’t have a thing. Let it go.”

*

The Treasury building is not all that dissimilar from any other office building. The biggest difference is the weapons carried by every person and the wire on every ear. Agent Taylor, who is no exception, leads Toby and C.J. through the building to the basement.

“We are pretty much finished interrogating her. She’s told us how she got into the White House and where she made her badges,” Agent Taylor says.

“What’s going to happen to her?” C.J. asks.

“Five, ten years in prison. CIA is going to burn her, too, she won’t be able to work for them or any other intelligence agencies,” Agent Taylor says. They come to the interrogation hall and walk into one of the observation rooms. On the other side of the two way glass, a short woman sits at a black table. Her sandy brown hair is cut close to her chin, out of the way, and her wide blue eyes study the manicured nails on her folded hands.

“Huh,” Toby says.

“Problem, sir?” Agent Taylor says.

“No, I just… I didn’t expect her to be so normal,” Toby answers. Agent Taylor nods. 

“They always are, sir. No one expects it, but they are,” he says. “Mr. McGarry said you might like to talk to her.”

“I would, actually. C.J., you wanna come?” Toby says. C.J. shakes her head.

“I don’t think I could speak to her without slapping her silly,” she says. 

“Yeah, we can’t have that,” Toby says. He follows Agent Taylor out the door. The Secret Service agent opens another door and Toby walks into the interrogation room. Anna Barber looks up as he enters.

“Well, this is a surprise,” she says. “I was expecting Sam Seaborn.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here yet,” Toby replies, walking further into the room. “I suppose you know who I am, then?”

“You’re Toby Ziegler. Though in this instance Uncle Toby might be more appropriate,” Anna says. Toby gives a false smile as he put his hands in his pockets.

“There’s very few people who can call me that. You are not one of them,” he says. 

“My daughter is.”

“Yes. She is,” Toby says. “Your daughter is very dear to me. I would like to spare her some confusion and unnecessary pain, which is why I’m here.” He stands in front of the mirror, directly across from Anna. She raises an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean, Mr. Ziegler?” Anna says.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, questions I think Cerulean might have in the future,” Toby says. “You are under no obligation to answer them, but it would save us a lot of time and drama if you told me now, so I can tell her when she has them herself.” Anna watches him for a moment, regarding him with cool blue eyes. 

“All right,” she says finally. “Fire away.”

“Thank you,” Toby says. He rocks on his feet. “You left the family when Cerulean was a year old. Why then?”

“Because Thomas was an abusive prick,” Anna replies. 

“But why then? Why not before?” Toby asks. Anna smiles. 

“That was when I got my hands on enough money and a fighting knife,” she says. “That’s how I got him to let me leave. He would have probably killed me if I hadn’t had the knife.”

“Hmm.” Toby nods. He’s fairly sure there’s no way to respond to that other than the obvious ‘that sounds like Thomas.’ 

“I suppose the next question is why not take the children?” Anna says. “That’s a simple answer. I was never going to get custody of them, and you can’t take babies on the run with you, so the only option was to leave them behind. Thomas would surely punish them if I tried to take custody from him.”

“He punished them anyway,” Toby says. “You did read about how Cerulean reported him to the President, right?”

“I did,” Anna answers coldly.

“So why didn’t you come back for them?” Toby says.

“I was working for the CIA. I didn’t have the time or resources to-”

“They’re your children.”

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Ziegler, but it wouldn’t have been fair to them to bring them into a one-room apartment where they’d be alone most of the time,” Anna says. “Zachary and Cerulean are better off where they ended up.”

“There was no way for you to know that they would end up where they did. They could have been sent to Mr. and Mrs. Satan in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania,” Toby says. “Or Mr. Pedophile and Mrs. Oblivious in Backwater, Kentucky. You had no idea where they were going to go.”

“Fine. I didn’t know,” Anna says, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I did know I couldn’t take care of them. What would you have had me do?” Toby stares at her. It’s completely self-evident to him what she should have done: she should have claimed her children and provided for them. Quit the CIA; go back to being the mother she wasn’t in the last five years. But that would require more selflessness than Anna is apparently capable of. Toby shakes his head, looking down at the floor.

“What about the gifts?” he mutters.

“The gifts?”

“The bear and the ornaments at Christmas,” Toby says louder. “What was the point of all that?” Anna shrugs.

“Cerulean wanted them.”

“How would you know that?” Toby looks up at Anna again. 

“The bear was easy. All the papers talked about her carrying it around and the police report said it was lodged in the car somewhere, so I went to the store Will told me about and got it for her,” she says. 

“And the ornaments?” 

“I took them from the house after Thomas was sentenced,” Anna says. “Zach said she really liked them.”

“You’ve been talking to Zach?” Toby repeats. She nods. 

“I send him postcards. He didn’t answer right away, but eventually he warmed up to it.”

“Yeah. I can see why he’d be reluctant to talk to you,” Toby says. “I certainly would be.” Anna gives him a cold look.

“Mr. Ziegler, it seems to me that your main purpose here is to criticize my choices,” she says. “Do you have any questions that actually help Cerulean or would you like to judge me some more?”

“You should be glad it’s me here and not the people I work with. C.J. Cregg wants to slap you into next Tuesday.” Toby nods at the glass behind him. “I can only imagine what the President and Leo McGarry would like to say to you.”

“They’re not here right now. And if you don’t have any more questions, I’d prefer if you weren’t either,” Anna replies. 

“Why didn’t you give the gifts to Cerulean in person?” Toby says. Anna hesitates, her cold mask slipping for an instant. “Anna?”

“It wasn’t for lack of concern, or anything like that,” she says in a low voice. “I just… I couldn’t have her look at me and not know who I was. I couldn’t bear it.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Sam, we gotta get to Staff,” Josh says, coming back into the Roosevelt Room. 

“Yeah. I’ll be back, guys, keep it going,” Sam says. He joins Josh in the hall and they head to Leo’s office. 

“Hey, C.J. pushed her briefing back. You know why?” Josh says.

“She and Toby went to Treasury. He left the planning for next week’s speech,” Sam says.

“Yeah, I heard about Toby. Why’d they go there?” 

“No idea. I expect we’ll find out soon,” Sam answers. 

“Huh,” Josh says. “So… what’s going on between you and Ainsley?” 

“Nothing,” Sam says, voice clipped. “Why does everyone keep insisting we have a thing?”

“You kinda act like it,” Josh says. “Anyway, you can’t have a thing with her. That’d be weird.”

“Why, coz we work together?” 

“No, because she’s…Ainsley Hayes. She’s a Republican and you’re not.”

“So?” Sam says. 

“So that’s like… a giraffe dating a penguin. It’s weird,” Josh says. 

“A giraffe and a penguin?” Sam repeats. “You realize Cerulean’s books are designed for first-graders and shouldn’t be taken literally, right?”

“It’s a metaphor. Penguins should date penguins, that’s what I’m saying,” Josh says.

“That’s ridiculous. Following that line of reasoning, I should only date men,” Sam says. 

“No, you can date women, just Democrat women,” Josh replies as they pass Margaret.

“And if a penguin wants to date a giraffe, I think that’s the penguin’s business,” Sam says, walking into Leo’s office. Thankfully, Leo is not there yet, but C.J. and Toby are there to stare at Sam.

“Please tell me you’re talking about one of Cerulean’s books,” C.J. says.

“It’s a metaphor,” Josh says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“As long as I’m not the giraffe,” C.J. says, looking back at the folder in her hands.

“No. Sam’s the giraffe.”

“I thought I was the penguin,” Sam says. 

“Look, you can be whatever animal you want. Just as long as everyone understands we were not calling C.J. a giraffe,” Josh says. Leo chooses that moment to walk in and it’s now Josh’s turn to be stared at like he’s grown a second head.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leo says.

“It seems to have been a metaphor gone horribly awry,” Toby replies. 

“Yes. Can we please talk about something else?” Josh says. 

“Let’s. Toby, C.J., you went to Treasury. How’d that go?” Leo asks, walking to his desk.

“Well, nobody got bitchslapped, so about as well as it could have gone,” C.J. says.

“What was going on at Treasury?” Sam says.

“A CIA agent named Rachel Grant tried to enter the White House this morning,” Toby says, eyes steadfastly on the wall behind Sam. “The Secret Service stopped her because she looked like Anna Barber. They then confirmed that she was Anna Barber and arrested her.” Sam clenches his fists.

“Anna Barber’s in the CIA?” Josh says.

“She was in the CIA,” C.J. says. “They’re burning her. Oddly enough, they’re more pissed that she snuck into the White House than that she was pretending to be someone she’s not.”

“They are the CIA. Pretending to be someone you’re not is kind of their job description,” Leo says. “What’s going to happen to Anna Barber now?”

“Jail time. At least five years,” C.J. says.

“Good,” Josh mutters.

“Either of you talk to her?” Leo looks at C.J. and Toby. C.J. glances at Toby, who sighs.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Anything we didn’t already know?” Josh asks. Toby finally looks at Sam.

“She’s sending Zach postcards. That’s how she knew Cerulean would like those ornaments,” he says.

“I really doubt Christine and George knew about that,” Sam says. “I’ll talk to them later. Anything else?”

“Nothing important. Anna’s just self-centered and cared more about herself than her kids,” Toby answers. Sam nods. 

“Not at all surprising.”

*

Donna looks into Ainsley’s office to find the other woman staring at one of the posters on the wall. Donna knocks on the open door.

“Hey, Ainsley,” she says. Ainsley turns. 

“Oh, hi, Donna. What’s up?” she asks.

“Policy had some things they wanted you to look over, so I brought them down.” Donna goes to Ainsley’s desk and puts the folders down. 

“Thanks. How are you doing?” Ainsley says, taking the top folder.

“I’m hanging in there. What about you?”

“I’m good.” Ainsley opens the folder. Donna starts to head for the stairs. Then she stops and turns back to Ainsley.

“I don’t want to pry, but can I ask you something kind of personal?” she says. Ainsley looks up.

“It depends on how personal.”

“You and Sam-”

“We don’t have a thing,” Ainsley interrupts.

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask,” Donna says. 

“Why do you think we have a thing, out of curiosity?” Ainsley says, putting the folder down. Donna shrugs.

“Well, everyone says you do.”

“Everyone says you and Josh have a thing,” Ainsley replies. Donna smiles, a nervous reflex.

“We don’t.”

“Everyone says you do.”

“Yeah, well, you and Sam disappear together to the mess, you kissed on Christmas, and watching the two of you talk is like watching verbal tennis foreplay,” Donna says. Ainsley blinks. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“Verbal tennis foreplay?” Ainsley repeats.

“That’s how Margaret described it and it kinda caught on,” Donna says with a wince. Ainsley nods. 

“I see. And thus everyone thinks Sam and I are together?” she asks.

“That you should be together if you’re not.”

“That would never work,” Ainsley says. “We’re too different. I’m a Republican, he’s not. I’m a feminist, he’s not.”

“He’s getting better on the feminist thing. We’re all working on him,” Donna says. “And you’re both lawyers. You’re both idealists. You’re both incredibly invested in Cerulean’s well-being-” Ainsley groans and drops her face into her hands. Donna pauses. “Is there something I don’t know about Cerulean?”

“She heard the rumor that Sam and I have a thing and she talked to me about it,” Ainsley says from between her fingers. “And she said…she said that it would be neat if I was her mom.” She looks up at Donna with a pained expression. “What am I supposed to do about that?”

“I…don’t know,” Donna says.

“And she said it that way she does when she wants something but she doesn’t want to ask you directly,” Ainsley sighs. “God. I would be honored to be her mom. Absolutely honored. But I can’t date Sam. Not while we both work here. It’s not appropriate and it’s more stress for him.”

“I get that. And Cerulean will too, if you explain it to her that way,” Donna says. 

“You do?” Ainsley asks.

“Yeah. She’s smarter than people give her credit for,” Donna says. “And one more thing- I think that last reason’s the actual reason you won’t date him. All those other reasons are mostly bullshit.” 

“You can have your opinion on that. I think all of my reasons are completely valid,” Ainsley replies.

“Whatever you say, Ainsley.”

“What are your reasons for not dating Josh again?” Ainsley says.

“He’s an idiot,” Donna answers. Ainsley purses her lips.

“That should have been my number one with Sam. He’s an idiot too,” she says.

“Why do you think they’re best friends?”

*

Sam finds Anna Barber…unsettling. 

When he walks into the room, she stares at him with her wide eyes. Jason’s face is over hers for a second. Sam has to blink it away. Anna Barber does not blink. She continues to stare at him, daring him to speak first. Sam has no time for chicken.

“Well, you know who I am and I know who you are, so we won’t waste any time with that,” he says, hands in his pockets.

“Fine,” Anna Barber replies.

“Toby Ziegler spoke to me about your conversation. I don’t need to ask you any of that,” Sam says.

“Okay.”

“I would like you to know that I don’t want you anywhere near Cerulean and that she won’t be reading your letter for several years,” Sam says. “She hasn’t asked about you. I haven’t said anything.”

“That makes sense.” 

“Are you going to actually say anything, or are you just gonna let me talk at you?” Sam asks.

“I’m still waiting to find out why you’re here,” Anna says. “You’ve made it clear you’re not here for those other things.”

“I am not here for those things. I am here…” Sam sighs. “I’m here to thank you. Which is hard for me to say, even though I think I should say it.”

“I’m not really sure why you would say it,” Anna replies. “But you have a captive audience, Mr. Seaborn.”

“It’s counterintuitive, to start with. Because of you, Cerulean, Jason, and Zach were left at the mercy of Thomas and Jeremy. God knows what they endured in those five years,” Sam says, starting to pace a little. “And certainly the car crash wouldn’t have been staged.”

“And yet?” Anna prompts. “All of those things are true, but you’re thanking me.”

“It sounds odd,” Sam admits. 

“It does.”

“It’s also incredibly selfish of me, but I figure with all the bad things happening to you today, you could use something nice,” Sam says. “If you hadn’t left when you did, I wouldn’t be Cerulean’s parent right now. Cerulean’s the best thing that ever happened to me and while I can’t say I wouldn’t trade that for Jason being alive, that would be the only thing I’m not a hundred percent sure on. Thank you for making it possible for me to have this magnificent responsibility.” Anna blinks.

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Thank you for taking it on.”


	3. Chapter 3

Toby’s seeing double.

There are two small heads in Sam’s office as Toby goes through the bullpen, one he knows and one he doesn’t. The one he doesn’t has much shorter and darker curls than Cerulean. Sam is not in his office, so Toby comes up to the open door and knocks. Cerulean and the second small person, sitting in the guest chairs, turn to look at him.

“Hi, Uncle Toby,” Cerulean says. 

“Hey. Who’s this?” Toby says, gesturing to the second small person. He’s not sure whether they are a boy or a girl- their features are delicate but their clothes look like boy’s clothes. The short hair has him leaning towards boy.

“This is Trace. My best friend,” Cerulean says. “Trace, this is Uncle Toby.”

“Hi,” Trace says, waving.

“Hey,” Toby replies. “Cerulean, where’s your dad?”

“He’s got a meeting in the Roosevelt Room. He was gonna have it here, but we’re here,” Cerulean says. “Aunt Kathy’s watching us until he gets out.”

“Right. Has anybody talked to you about what happened this morning?” Toby asks.

“What happened this morning?” Cerulean says.

“Something. We can talk about it later.” Toby starts to head away.

“Wait! Uncle Toby, we need your help!” Cerulean says. He turns back.

“With what?” he says, apprehensive.

“Can the President get rid of a bad teacher?” Trace says. “He got rid of a bad dad, so he should be able to get rid of a teacher.”

“That wasn’t technically the President. He notified the people who actually took care of that bad dad,” Toby answers. 

“I told you,” Cerulean says.

“What’s going on with this bad teacher?” Toby says. 

“She won’t use my name,” Trace says. “She keeps callin me Tracy, even though me and my mami told her to call me Trace.”

“She calls you by the wrong name?” Toby says, brow furrowing. 

“That was his name, but now it’s Trace,” Cerulean says. “Plus she says mean things to us. And our friend Andie. Like that I was dumb coz my writing wasn’t very good or that Andie’s a crybaby and Trace is… some words we don’t really know what they mean.”

“What words are those?” Toby says, a sinking feeling in his chest as he looks at Trace’s tawny face. The boy’s face scrunches as he thinks.

“Um, she says tranny a lot,” he says. Toby’s mouth falls open. 

“Then there’s trans-ves-tor?”Cerulean says slowly. “I think that’s it.”

“No, it’s trans-ves-tite,” Trace says. “My dad says it a lot. And cross-dresser.” 

“Okay,” Toby says slowly. “Okay, I’m gonna talk to some people and see what we can do about this. When your dad gets back, you tell him too, okay?” Cerulean and Trace nod.

“Yes, sir!” Cerulean says. The two turn back to what they were doing. “I’m going to need a princess dress.”

“Then I want to have armor,” Trace says. 

“Okay. Andie says she’s dressing like Dumbledore.”

*

There is a knock at C.J.’s door as she reads an email from the CIA director regarding Anna Barber.

“Yeah?” she calls. The door opens and Toby walks in.

“Hey, you got a second?” he asks.

“Yeah. What’s going on?” C.J. turns to face him as Toby comes further into the office.

“I wanted to- I want your opinion on something,” he says, rocking back on his feet. “It’s not technically related to work.”

“Oh? What is it?” C.J. says.

“Cerulean was talking to me about her teacher. Apparently, the teacher is verbally abusive,” Toby says. “Not just to her, to her friends as well…which is where things get weird.”

“Weird?” C.J. repeats. “As if teachers bullying kids wasn’t enough?” Toby grimaces.

“Cerulean’s got a friend with her today. Apparently Sam thought his mother was going to be watching them but she couldn’t so he brought them here,” he says. “They told me the teacher keeps calling him-the friend- a tranny.”

“Why? Does he dress like a girl?” C.J. says.

“The opposite. From what I understand, Trace was Tracy but prefers to be referred to as a boy,” Toby says. 

“What, like Billy Tipton? The jazz musician?” C.J. suggests. 

“Yeah. It’s called being transgender, I think,” Toby says. “Thing is, there’s technically no legal protection for that. There’s no precedent. Most people haven’t even heard of it.”

“Toby, it’s not a court case. It’s a teacher calling a kid names. Sam and the parents go down and say, ‘hey, the teacher’s harassing my kid, do something,’” C.J. says. “If they have to drop the Trace thing, they keep on with Cerulean and the other kids. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“It should be a big deal,” Toby says. “Maybe not with us, not right now, but it should be. This kid shouldn’t have to deal with these issues. It’s bad enough that he has to deal with the psychological issues of the gender dysphoria whatever! Now he has to deal with people calling him names and harassing him! There’s no legal precedent to protect him!” His arms are spread as he shouts, moving up and down with his voice.

“Toby, there’s nothing we can do about that,” C.J. replies. “If we wanted to pass any kind of legislation, we’d face huge backlash from conservative groups. We’d have to educate the public, which we just finished doing with MS. It’d never work.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try!” Toby exclaims. “The things this kid goes through, the things he’s going to go through! C.J., we…” He sighs. “We gotta do something. Trace is just one of many.”

“We can try and do something after re-election,” C.J. says. “If Trace’s parents do pursue this-”

“They won’t. Trace’s father uses some of the same language as the teacher,” Toby grumbles.

“Well, we’ll bring it to Leo after the campaign. There’ll be something we can push,” C.J. says. “We can’t fight every battle at once. It’s not possible. But we can try when we’re done with this battle.” Toby nods.

“Yeah. Thanks, I needed…I needed somebody to talk through that with me,” he says.

“No problem. By the way, can transgender people get married to someone not of their preferred gender identity?” C.J. asks.

“No. They can’t even legally change their gender in many states,” Toby says. “Why?”

“Apparently, Cerulean and Trace are getting married on the playground tomorrow,” C.J. says, smiling. “Obviously that’s not legally binding, but I was just thinking, if they still feel this way down the road-”

“She’s seven, C.J., don’t start saying things like that!” Toby says. C.J. giggles. “She should be playing with dolls! What happened to the dolls?”

*  
Sam wonders if he did the right thing. 

Cerulean went to see her friend out a few minutes ago with Kathy. Sam had to take a phone call that ended just a few moments ago. That phone call told him that Anna Barber had been formally arrested and put in a cell. So Sam is left to wonder. If both of Cerulean’s biological parents are imprisoned, both criminal charged and soon both convicted, and both could be labelled child abusers, Thomas for physical abuse and Anna for neglect, what’s the difference? Why does he feel less animosity towards Anna than Thomas? He does feel some animosity towards her, though clearly Toby feels more than he does. But Sam isn’t sure he did the right thing telling Anna he was grateful. He’s also not sure he should hold off on that letter. Maybe he should open it and then explaining to Cerulean. 

“Sam?” Toby appears in his door. Sam looks up.

“Yeah?”

“You hear from Treasury yet?” Toby asks. 

“Yeah. She’s been booked and put in a cell,” Sam says. Toby nods. 

“Okay. You look…you look like you’ve got a problem,” he says. 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Sam says. 

“Okay. Listen, can I talk to you about this thing with Cerulean and Trace?” Toby comes further into the office. Sam frowns.

“Trace?”

“Her friend.”

“I thought that was Tracy,” Sam says. Toby shakes his head.

“He was introduced to me as Trace. Apparently it’s a transgender thing,” he says.

“Trans-what?” Sam repeats.

“He was a girl, now he’s a boy. That’s the main point,” Toby says. Sam shrugs. “Anyway, he and Cerulean were telling me about how their teacher treats them and I think you should take complaints to the school with other parents.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get a bad image about that teacher,” Sam says. “Is this about the writing thing again?” 

“It’s the Cerulean’s teacher is calling her stupid thing,” Toby replies.

“Her teacher called her stupid?” Sam says. “When the hell did this happen?”

“I don’t know. But it’s happened more than once,” Toby says. 

“It’s gonna stop. Like, yesterday,” Sam says. How did he not know this was going on? He knew the teacher was nasty, but directly calling Cerulean stupid was new. 

“Yeah. Good.” Toby starts to head back to his office. Sam works his jaw, anger simmering.

“Hey, Sam!” Ainsley comes over to his door, all sunshine and smiles and blonde. Her presence does a little to make him less angry.

“Yeah?” he says. Her smile is devilish as she enters. 

“So, I just had a couple of first-graders in my office,” Ainsley says, sidling up to his desk. “Apparently, Cerulean is getting married on the playground tomorrow?” She sits in the chair across from Sam as he blinks a few times, trying to process this.

“What?” 

“I got it directly from the source herself. She and her husband-to-be were telling me all about it,” Ainsley says. “They seem to have some of the words mixed up- awfully wedded husband instead of lawfully wedded, but in some marriages it’s the same thing.”

“They’re way too young to be thinking about this kind of thing,” Sam says. “Aren’t boys supposed to have cooties at this age or something?”

“Boys never stop having cooties, Sam,” Ainsley replies with a straight face. “We just learn to get over our disgust in order to keep them from destroying the planet.”

“Well, we all appreciate your sacrifice. I still think they’re too young to be playing at romance,” Sam says. He shakes his head. “As if I didn’t have enough to worry about with her.”

“What do you mean?” Ainsley asks. “Isn’t everything from the car crash mostly wrapped up?”

“Health-wise, yes. Cerulean is mostly over that,” Sam says. 

“So what are you worried about?”

“Well, her teacher’s apparently a witch and her mother’s no better,” Sam answers. Ainsley’s eyes widen at the last part. Before she can inquire further, Cerulean runs in, followed by Kathy. She hops up onto the chair next to Ainsley’s.

“Hi, Daddy!” Cerulean chirps. “Hi, Auntie Ainsley!” Sam sees a flicker in Ainsley’s face when Cerulean greets her, something he’s fairly sure never happened before. He doesn’t comment on it here.

“Hey, Cerule. We need to talk about something,” Sam says. “Kathy, would you close the door?”

“I can go,” Ainsley says, starting to stand.

“No, stay. It’s fine,” Sam says. It’s Ainsley’s turn to blink, but she stays in her seat. Kathy, watching the exchange, shuts the door without a word. 

“What’s goin on?” Cerulean asks. “Is this about my teacher?”

“It’s not about your teacher,” Sam says. “It’s about your mother. Anna Barber.” Cerulean’s face scrunches, nose wrinkling.

“What?”

“She left…she left your other Daddy when you were very little,” Sam says, words halting. “But after you and your brothers were in the car crash, she came back. She got Fred back for you, and she sent you the angel ornaments for Christmas.”

“Oh.” Cerulean’s voice is small as her eyes fall to the papers on Sam’s desk. Ainsley reaches for Cerulean.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” she asks, putting a hand on Cerulean’s arm. Cerulean shrugs.

“I didn’t think I had a mother,” she says. Ainsley bites her lip and Sam has to force himself not to make a face. “I…I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.”

“Which part don’t you understand?” Sam says. 

“I don’t know. All of it?” Cerulean says, looking up at him. Her eyes seem to reflect Sam’s breaking heart. “Why did she leave? Did she not like us? Why didn’t she come see us later, when other Daddy was gone? Why did she not see us at all?”

“Cerulean, I can’t make this make sense,” Sam says. “What she’s done is selfish. She cared more about herself than anyone else. It was wrong.”

“Is she sorry?” Cerulean asks. Sam hesitates.

“I really don’t think so,” he says finally. “You don’t have to forgive her.”

“I wasn’t mad before,” Cerulean says. “Did we do something wrong? Me and Zach and Jason, did we-”

“No. You didn’t do anything,” Ainsley says before Sam can. “You were far too little to have done anything, and frankly, Cerulean, nothing would justify what she did. A parent’s first and most important responsibility is the well-being of their child.”

“That’s right,” Sam says. Cerulean nods. She still looks forlorn, eyes dropping to the desk again. Sam and Ainsley look at each other. 

“You know, Cerulean, if she hadn’t done all this, you wouldn’t be with us right now,” Ainsley says. “And we wouldn’t get to have our secret dance parties.”

“That’s true,” Cerulean says, smiling a little. Oh, thank God for Ainsley Hayes.

“Secret dance parties?” Sam repeats. 

“Do you have a problem with dancing, Sam?” Ainsley says.

“I’m just recalling the last time I saw you dance,” Sam says, unable to stop smiling. Ainsley shuts her eyes, trying not to cringe from the memory of the Bossa Nova.

“And that’s why you’re not invited to the dance parties,” she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end of Anna Barber. We shouldn't see her again, but you never know. 
> 
> If you guys have any ideas for stories between this and Sam leaving the White House, please let me know! The muse has kinda dried up.


End file.
